


tiki-taka

by lamal



Category: TOMORROW X TOGETHER | TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Sports, Choi Yeonjun is a little shit, Edging, Kang Taehyun is a Brat, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, sometimes. things that are related to football... are gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamal/pseuds/lamal
Summary: Yeonjun really can’t dig himself a deeper grave than this.
Relationships: Choi Yeonjun/Kang Taehyun
Comments: 8
Kudos: 66
Collections: sometimes a love language can be writing pwp for your friends





	tiki-taka

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trinitarias](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trinitarias/gifts).



> **tiki-taka:** a spanish style of play in football characterized by short passing and movement, working the ball through various channels, and maintaining possession. it seems easy in theory, but it's a bit hard to pull off if the players aren't smart with their movements, and it requires a lot of team work.
> 
> thank u mr. maluma baby for ur [sexiest album 2 date](https://open.spotify.com/album/3YIUNL7qFE8NP3X3zaYSND?si=kLQM7Zw-TqaVKtgLEo1Bmg) my brain is just _dispuesto_ and _extrañándote_ on a loop

“F-fuck,” Yeonjun moans, clutching the sheets in his fists. They feel like liquid seeping through the gaps between his fingers; even though he tries to grab more, he can’t seem to get a good grip. His body can’t stay static, either. The friction between the satin sheets and his nipples is absolutely divine, but his head rocks even if he tries to rest it on his forehead. The sheets are his legs’ worst enemy, though — even with his knees pressed down on the mattress, he can’t stay still for the life of him.

 _Maybe_ Yeonjun’s at the point where he’s being fucked so well that his bones have turned into honey.

Yeonjun mewls once more, his voice cracking halfway through, and Taehyun grunts from behind him. Even during sex, Taehyun’s movements are the same as they are on the field: calculated, precise, and tenacious. He doesn’t need to put so much force into things. Taehyun is strong, but he moves with care more than he does with brute force. And right now, Taehyun’s pounding into Yeonjun’s prostate like it’s his fucking job. Each thrust is more devastating than the last. It can’t be pure luck that Taehyun manages to hit the same spot every time — Yeonjun thought it was, when Taehyun rolled his hips and managed to make Yeonjun’s elbows buckle the first time. Taehyun must have read his mind, because he moves like he was baited into accepting a challenge, like he wants to completely shatter Yeonjun’s expectations of sex.

What a fucking brat.

One more thrust wipes Yeonjun’s mind completely. He can’t feel his hands when he curls them into fists. He can only feel the spark in his toes that slowly skitters up his legs like an electric arc. The coil in his abdomen is about to snap. Yeonjun closes his eyes shut despite knowing full well that he’s going to see stars just like he was when his eyes were open. Taehyun’s latest thrust moves Yeonjun towards the middle of the bed, and Yeonjun waits for the next thrust to push him completely over the edge.

Taehyun stops moving.

“You can’t be fucking serious,” Yeonjun hisses.

“You,” Taehyun exhales, reaching for Yeonjun’s hair and tugging, “need to stop moving so much.”

Yeonjun laughs breathlessly, the tension on his scalp sending another gentle current down his spine. He thinks very briefly that it might be embarrassing for Taehyun to figure out that Yeonjun enjoys having his hair pulled to a certain extent, because Taehyun can and _will_ take advantage of that — he does it so easily: picking out his opponents’ weaknesses and using them to his advantage. Yeonjun initially started out on all fours and is now all but melting into the mattress. He really can’t dig himself a deeper grave than this.

“Whose fault is that?” Yeonjun asks, just because he’s a piece of shit. If Taehyun wasn’t grabbing his hair, he’d look over his shoulder and smirk. Maybe that would cause Taehyun to grab his hair just a little more tightly. Taehyun wasn’t the only genius on the team — he might think he’s in control right now, but Yeonjun is getting exactly what he wants from him.

Taehyun huffs. He lets go of his grasp on Yeonjun’s hair and Yeonjun lets his head loll around. He’s still frustratingly hard, but he doesn’t believe in blue balls. Edging can only last for so long, and Yeonjun will finish the job himself if he has to. Yeonjun’s pushing himself back up on his elbows as Taehyun runs his fingers down his back. Careful, careful hands. Taehyun might be thin, but he works hard. Yeonjun knows for a fact that his arms are full of hard muscle, and Taehyun knows how to use his hands better than anyone on the team. Before Yeonjun can lift himself onto his hands, Taehyun grabs him by the hips and _pulls._ Yeonjun cries out as Taehyun slams into him, his arms turning into jelly once more.

Yeonjun pants as he rests his forehead against the mattress. Taehyun rolls his hips gently, not so much thrusting but moving enough that Yeonjun can feel the pressure of Taehyun’s cock inside him. It makes him feel more full than he did before. It feels really nice, and Yeonjun could have enjoyed himself with just this at any other time, but for Taehyun to build up the tension in his body just to cut himself off like that would just be cruel. Yeonjun feels like he’s on a rollercoaster, the seconds he’s spending on the lift hill slowly dragging out longer than normal — the car stops just before the dive drop, but the fall never comes.

Taking Taehyun out to an amusement park would be cute. They could make it a date, maybe after their next game.

“Come on,” Taehyun says, gently tapping Yeonjun’s ass, “turn around.”

“No fucking way on this hell of an earth are you pulling out,” Yeonjun commands. “Either you continue fucking me like this, or you stop fucking me completely.”

“Alright,” Taehyun says. He keeps his hands on Yeonjun’s hips as he begins to slip out of him.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Yeonjun begs, using whatever strength he has left in his leg to keep Taehyun from moving any further. “No, Taehyun, listen,” he pants, “we can work this out, come on.”

Yeonjun looks over his shoulder just in time to see the way Taehyun rolls his eyes. Taehyun meets his gaze and sighs, pushing himself back inside Yeonjun torturously slowly. Yeonjun hums at the feeling, his eyelids automatically fluttering shut. He feels an added pressure on his back — Taehyun’s chest, a little bit clammy with sweat as Taehyun presses kisses to Yeonjun’s shoulder blades. Taehyun’s hands slide up Yeonjun’s body once more, and the electric current makes its return. With one hand pressing down on the back of Yeonjun’s neck, Taehyun bottoms out with one more thrust. Yeonjun whines once at the feeling and once more when he realizes that Taehyun’s pulling out.

Taehyun only snickers, the fucking asshole. Yeonjun whimpers at the loss as Taehyun climbs onto the bed and grabs him. Despite Taehyun being a bit shorter, Yeonjun knew that he’s strong — of course he knew, since basically all the time they ever spent together was dedicated to working out. Taehyun’s arms are his greatest asset. Yeonjun shouldn’t be surprised that Taehyun’s able to manhandle him, but he is, and it’s more annoying that he finds it hot. Taehyun flips Yeonjun around with ease and slides him across the bed so Yeonjun is pushed up against the pillows, and Yeonjun wants to swoon.

To juxtapose that, the way Taehyun lifts Yeonjun’s legs is gentle. Yeonjun is a little too fucked out to feel it (and the only things he _can_ feel are his still-hard dick and his disappointingly empty hole), but there’s a mellow stretch in his thighs as Taehyun pushes Yeonjun’s knees to his chest. Would Taehyun be willing to stretch with him like this before practice? Maybe Yeonjun could stretch _his_ legs like this — revenge truly is sweet, perhaps almost as much as the taste of Taehyun’s mouth. Taehyun tucks a pillow underneath the small of Yeonjun’s back with a single hand before getting comfortable.

“Why did we have to do this?” Yeonjun complains. He’s still incredibly bitter that he hasn’t finished getting his brain fucked out of him. “You seemed perfectly fine blowing my back out.”

“My legs are fucking tired,” Taehyun scoffs, although there’s no sharpness in his tone. “We practice for two hours every day wearing the most uncomfortable shoes on the planet next to heels, _and_ I was fucking you standing up. I need a goddamn break.”

Yeonjun moans as Taehyun presses the head of his cock to Yeonjun’s hole, applying just enough pressure that it’s enough to satiate and starve Yeonjun all at once. He’s been itching for some contact, even if he’s only been empty for about a minute, but after knowing what it feels like to be stuffed to his guts, he needs Taehyun inside of him yesterday. Taehyun doesn’t move — he grabs a little more lube and covers himself with it once more, and he uses the residue on his hand to tease Yeonjun’s rim. Yeonjun is usually not so embarrassed about pubic hair; he prefers to groom regularly and doesn’t really care if he’s been fucking the same person for a bit, but he didn’t expect to be doing this today.

“So why’d you come?” Yeonjun asks. He gasps lightly when Taehyun presses the tip of his thumb inside him.

He can’t read Taehyun’s expression, but Taehyun takes his thumb out and begins to push in regardless — meticulously, carefully, just like he always moves.

“Why’d you ask me to come?” Taehyun retorts. He quickly snaps his hips, eliciting another moan from Yeonjun as he begins to return to a steady rhythm. They both know Yeonjun won’t be able to answer his question like this. It was rhetorical.

Yeonjun clenches subconsciously and Taehyun moans, cutting the motion of his hips off halfway as he almost falls onto Yeonjun’s chest. He’s always been quick to recover — Taehyun latches onto Yeonjun’s collarbone and begins to suck on it as he resumes rolling his hips. Yeonjun can’t help but wrap his legs around Taehyun’s waist, bringing their bodies even closer together, and he relishes in the pressure both their bodies are putting on his cock. Taehyun’s movements cause Yeonjun to rock back and forth on the bed. His thrusts definitely aren’t as firm as they were a moment ago. Taehyun is slowly easing Yeonjun back into it, leading him up the hill again.

Why did he ask Taehyun to come?

Taehyun presses a hand to Yeonjun’s chest as he pushes himself up, his fingers gently prodding his nipple. Yeonjun whines again, missing the feeling of Taehyun’s mouth on him. Taehyun holds himself up in that position before thrusting into Yeonjun with a little more vigor.

“Oh, my God,” Yeonjun moans. Leave it to Kang Taehyun to find the sweet spot every single time. Taehyun laughs at the wreck below him like he’s feeding off of it. Yeonjun just wants him closer, wants Taehyun to fill him up again, wants his mouth. He brings a hand to his other breast and gives his second nipple the attention it was lacking, since Taehyun was only working on one. Taehyun thrusts into Yeonjun’s prostate again and Yeonjun’s eyes well up with tears. He clenches again, causing Taehyun to lose his composure. Taehyun hisses out a swear as he collapses, his lips brushing against the shell of Yeonjun’s ear as he moans, and Yeonjun is electric.

He rests his heels on the divots of Taehyun’s back right above his ass, just to add a little more force to Taehyun’s thrusts.

“ _Fuck_ , hyung,” Taehyun moans. The sound of his voice right next to Yeonjun’s ear does something to him — Taehyun has been composed all this time but is just now starting to get loose-lipped, more familiar honorifics coming out of him instead of the _sunbae_ Yeonjun was accustomed to. Taehyun presses his lips to the underside of Yeonjun’s jaw, brushing over it with his tongue before biting down. Yeonjun wraps an arm around him, grabbing a fistful of Taehyun’s hair as Taehyun continues slamming into him. Yeonjun feels his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Taehyun,” Yeonjun gasps, “Tyun, I — I’m gonna—”

Taehyun maintains his pace, rocking into Yeonjun as he sucks on a nipple. Yeonjun goes completely silent at the extra stimulation. The drop arrives. This is the way he always comes: jaw slack, voice lost, and eyes closed in a futile attempt to hold back tears. Yeonjun feels the heat of his cum on his stomach, noticing that some landed on Taehyun’s torso before he sighs. Taehyun continues to thrust into him, absolutely fucking relentless, before his lips disconnect from Yeonjun’s nipple with an obscene pop. Who would have known Taehyun is as talented with his mouth as he is with his hands? He reaches desperately for something on the bed, his hand meeting Yeonjun’s before intertwining their fingers. Taehyun’s moans quickly become disjointed as he squeezes Yeonjun’s hand tightly.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Taehyun cries out, still rocking his hips and — _goddamn_ , Yeonjun’s already crying but he’s sure to be a wreck now. He basks in the overstimulation as Taehyun keeps him on a plateau of pure ecstasy, hot tears running down his cheeks. Taehyun seems to be on the very brink, his face all but pressed against Yeonjun’s temple as his movements become a little more frantic. Miraculously, Taehyun is still slamming into Yeonjun’s prostate without fail. Maybe this is a testament to his skill, something Yeonjun might be too proud to admit, and the thought crosses his mind again.

Why did he ask Taehyun to come?

(“You need me,” Taehyun said earlier, sweaty from all the drills they did but red with an emotion that definitely wasn’t exhaustion. “I know you need me. _You_ know you need me. We all know you won’t be able to find another goalie like me. I’m needed on this team, but I need to feel _wanted._ ”

When the rest of the team left for the showers, Yeonjun kissed him.)

“Hyung,” Taehyun whimpers into Yeonjun’s ear, “ _hyunghyunghyung_ —”

Taehyun comes with a cry, pushing through and thrusting into Yeonjun with whatever energy he has left. With his own orgasm finished, Yeonjun is once again vocal, his moans turning into sobs as the overstimulation becomes a little too much to bear. Yeonjun turns slightly, catching Taehyun’s mouth in one last kiss, both of them sighing desperately as Taehyun rides out his orgasm. He keeps a hand in Taehyun’s hair, refusing to let him pull away until Taehyun finally slows down. Taehyun rocks his hips one last time before completely resting his weight on Yeonjun and pulling away. His eyes are cloudy as he looks down at Yeonjun, and Yeonjun can’t help but pay attention to Taehyun’s lips: shiny and cerise and perfect. Yeonjun wants to kiss him again.

“I’m gonna pull out, okay?” Taehyun says breathlessly. Yeonjun’s body is completely pliant at this point, pure putty in Taehyun’s hands, but Taehyun is still careful with the way he presses a hand to Yeonjun’s thigh before slipping out of him. Taehyun slides off the bed and carefully removes the condom, lifting it to see if there were any holes, and he quickly ties a knot at the end. He blinks. “Um,” he starts.

Yeonjun huffs out a laugh. “I got it,” he says, sitting up and getting out of bed. His legs are a little weak; it takes him a second to secure his footing. He takes the used condom from Taehyun’s hand before pulling him by the wrist, leading him to the bathroom. Yeonjun tosses the condom in the trash before running the shower.

“Should I go?” Taehyun asks.

Yeonjun frowns. “Do you want to?” He lets go of Taehyun’s wrist. “Let me clean you up first, at least.”

Taehyun’s ears are almost as red as his lips. “Okay,” he says softly. He makes a surprised sound when Yeonjun guides him inside the shower, and Yeonjun takes his hands off him.

“Is something wrong?” Yeonjun asks, doom manifesting as a weight in his chest.

“No!” Taehyun answers quickly. “I just — together?”

Yeonjun cocks his head to the side. “We shower together all the time,” he says.

Taehyun scrunches his nose. “That’s different,” he mutters. “The whole team showers together. Those are semi-public showers.”

“Kang Taehyun,” Yeonjun commands. “Get in the shower.”

Taehyun nods quickly, stepping into the shower before Yeonjun slides the glass door shut. He gently prods Taehyun to stand underneath the showerhead. It’s a bit cute that Taehyun chose this time to be shy — he has his back to Yeonjun, looking down at the tiled floor as his hair gets wet. Yeonjun reaches for his body wash before pouring a good amount into his hand. He gets close enough to Taehyun that the water just barely hits him, and he presses a kiss to the nape of Taehyun’s neck before he starts to lather. Yeonjun never thought of himself as a scratcher, but he checks for any red marks on Taehyun’s back and shoulders just in case. He continues spreading the soap down Taehyun’s back before stopping at his ass.

Yeonjun can’t help but squeeze.

“Absolutely not,” Taehyun laughs, quickly turning around. His wet hair is pressed against his forehead, almost covering his pretty eyes. “I worked hard to give you the best nut of your life and you should _not_ be wanting any more for a while.”

Yeonjun snorts. “Did you really call it a nut?” He squeezes more soap into his hand before pressing his palm to Taehyun’s chest, just above his pectoral, and he moves his hand in a small circle. “I just think you have a cute butt,” he explains. The leftover spunk still on Taehyun’s chest comes off easily underneath the water but Taehyun just gives Yeonjun an unimpressed glare.

“As you should,” he says. “This is an award-winning ass right here.”

Yeonjun hums, refusing to agree just because Taehyun’s ego doesn’t need it. He thinks he should top next time.

The rest of the shower goes by silently, no sound except for the running water and Taehyun’s content sighs. Yeonjun is careful as he touches him, making sure he doesn’t miss a single spot. He only pours a bit of soap into Taehyun’s hands so the goalie can lather it over himself where he needs to. Yeonjun tugs and prods at the skin of Taehyun’s stomach, which earns him a few soft giggles, threatening fingers brushing over the beginning of his happy trail. Taehyun smacks Yeonjun’s hand away, grabbing him by the neck and pulling his head underneath the water as punishment.

“I think you work on your punishments,” Yeonjun says, water dripping over his eyelashes and lips. “This doesn’t faze me. I always get dunked on with water after games, remember?”

Taehyun just stares. “Hot water is bad for your hair,” he says as a way of explanation.

Yeonjun lets himself stand underneath the water a little longer. “So?”

“So?” Taehyun snorts. “Hyung, your hair is _crunchy._ ”

Yeonjun gasps, absolutely scandalized.

“I’m serious,” Taehyun continues, just because he’s a dick, “when I grabbed your hair, I thought I was going to pull it right off your scalp.”

“That’s it,” Yeonjun huffs, “get the fuck out of my shower.”

Yeonjun slides open the glass door as Taehyun cackles, stepping onto the mat on the floor and wiping his feet. Yeonjun grabs his own towel and wraps it around his waist before reaching into his closet, grabbing a spare, and smacking Taehyun with it. Taehyun’s smile is so bright.

_He needs to feel wanted._

Taehyun’s hair is mostly dry by the time he’s making his way out of Yeonjun’s place. Even in the clothes he was wearing before practice, although this technically might be his walk-of-shame outfit, he looks breathtaking. Yeonjun, always sure to be a good host, takes Taehyun to the main lobby and to the bus stop on the corner. He offers him a ride home, which Taehyun politely declines.

Taehyun spares a quick glance at his phone. “My bus is almost here,” he says. He means it to be a goodbye.

Yeonjun nods before grabbing Taehyun by the wrist and pulling him into a kiss. It’s a bit like the one they shared in the locker room earlier, except Taehyun doesn’t push him off quite as roughly this time.

“What was that for?” Taehyun asks, eyebrows furrowed.

Yeonjun cocks his head again. What else could it possibly mean? “I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asks, taking a few backwards steps as he makes his way back to his apartment.

Taehyun rolls his eyes. “We don’t have practice tomorrow. It’s Saturday.”

“I know,” Yeonjun confirms. “I just want to see you.”

The sunset makes Taehyun’s ears shine a deeper red than his lips were before.

**Author's Note:**

> unfortunately i had to be reminded that the goal was porn WITHOUT plot but come on. it's me. i had to put some plot and if i were a lesser man i would turn this into a fully-fledged au but i'm gonna stop myself before i dig out my entire grave. but here's just a Little plot. as a treat.
> 
>   * taehyun's the goalie. it's your typical talented university football team and he was the only first year that made the cut, so he's left out a lot. obviously if you've got tension with someone (or everyone) on your team, it's gonna affect everyone's plays and morale, so taehyun snaps.
>   * yeonjun's the incumbent winger. this is an offensive position so long story short, he's hot shit. but he'd been trying to work up the courage to talk to taehyun ever since the semester started. the only issue is that yeonjun genuinely thinks that going "nice play, kang" is flirting.
>   * yeonjun stops being a dumbass and asks taehyun out on a real date after they win another game and they go to an amusement park and they kiss and they end up dating because they l*ke each other or whatever 
>   * GET FUCKED LILI
> 

> 
> thank you for reading 🥰


End file.
